Buried: Revelation
by Pentangle-linnon
Summary: Part 2. Aragorn, Legolas, Glorfindel, the Twins, Erestor. Estel returns to Imladris, bringing with him fears unresolved in Mirkwood.
1. Going Home

Rating: T (For one scene of squickiness if you don't like blood in chapter 2) There is one angst scene; otherwise this fic (part 2) is the fluffy filling in an angst sandwich.

A/N

Part 2 of 3 – "Buried: Descent" is part 1 under author Pentangle-linnon

This story follows the convention that Estel was raised by Elrond, Gilraen is out of the picture, etc, and is slightly AU as Estel is fifteen and has recently been told some of who he is by Elrond.

His insufficient maturity for such news has caused some problems. (see Part 1)

Thanks to Jadesaber for beta-ing this story

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**Ch. 1 - Going Home**

The traveling party consisted of 10 elven warriors, one elven prince, one elven ruler of a hidden valley, and one 15 year old human. As they left the gloom of the Mirkwood forests behind them and rode out onto the plains that footed the Misty Mountains, all (except the prince) took deep breaths of relief. The previously silent group began to laugh and talk and sing.

Glorfindel chastised his youngest subordinate, "I do not understand your attitude, Aerendir. I find a brisk skirmish with a score or so of spiders just the thing to make me peckish for dinner!"

"Do not listen to Glorfindel," Elrond chuckled. "His complexion was a delightful shade of green as the spiders surrounded us!"

"That was just the gloom of Mirkwood! Why do you think Legolas wanted a portrait painted in Imladris? His cheek is too pale to stand up to the dolorous light of his home."

"That was a gift for my father, as well you know. If I had had it done at home I would never have kept it a secret from Thranduil." Legolas spoke placidly as he rode alongside Estel and behind Glorfindel and Elrond. "It is often said that those who have never quailed in the bloodiest battle flinch when meeting our little pets."

Glorfindel sighed. "Alas; too true. I shall never grow accustomed to the hideous things. I doubt I have enough left in my treasury to pay you all bribes to keep my disgraceful secret. However, there is one among us who showed his mettle, even though he was ordered to stay out of the mêlée."

Estel looked apprehensive. He was not used to the new 'say nothing critical of Estel' program the party had instituted in an attempt to bolster his confidence.

Elrond smiled in reassurance. "I would have preferred you not risk yourself, my son, but none could fault your valor. I am very proud of the way you handled that spider. It was a large one indeed!"

Estel smiled in return, though the smile in his eyes did not quite match the one on his lips. "It was a very _juicy _one, at any rate. I am glad I have clean linen with me. Now all I need is a stream to wash in."

Glorfindel turned around to look at him, resting one hand on his horse's rump as he leaned on it. "That you shall have, youngling, for our camp is well supplied tonight. It is another three hours away. Though if you are tired we can stop earlier –"

Estel was still not fully recovered from his illness. He snapped peevishly, "I am _fine _Glorfindel! I wish you all would not worry so!"

Estel flushed when the seneschal did not become angry but instead became concerned.

"I am sorry, Glorfindel," he whispered.

One month previously, he would have added, "I know you only fret over me because you care for me." But now the absence of that simple sentiment echoed in the painful silence of those who rode at the fore of the group. Estel's knuckles shown whitely as he gripped his reins.

Glorfindel broke the tension in his elevated way as he began to sing a raucous man-song about two drunkards and a giant spider. He sang several verses before Elrond intervened.

"My stroke went wide, and so did his;

We made another pass.

But the spider jumped down right behind

And bit Aldor on the – "

"Glorfindel!" barked Elrond.

"My lord?" (His gaze was innocence personified.)

"I think I would prefer to hear a song from Legolas; if he will oblige us?"

Legolas began to sing a lay about the creation of Anor. As the gentle, praising strains slowly wound up and down like a twining vine, Estel's hands relaxed. Sadoreth stopped tossing his head in annoyance at the careless pressure, and Estel stroked his neck in apology.

Later that night after dinner in camp, Estel wandered a fair distance away and sat down cross-legged on the ground, looking at the stars. Elrond started after his son, but Legolas put out a hand to stop him.

"Let me go to him. He may speak more freely to me about whatever is causing the shadow that will not leave his eyes. He may fear to cause his Adar distress."

Elrond hesitated for long moments. Then he sighed and nodded. "You are right; although I do not like it that you are right!"

"You are a wise father, Elrond." With a pat to the lord's arm Legolas moved off into the night.

End Chapter 1


	2. Blood Brother

Title: Buried II: Revelation

/thoughts/

**Chap. 2 - Blood Brother**

Legolas walked to the place where Estel stared up at the sky. The deep black backdrop was blazing with diamonds. On the way to Mirkwood the two had sat together in perfect amity as he told Estel the old tales of the stars or Estel told him creative new ones. Now a gulf lay between them. There had been no argument, no acts of thoughtlessness. Only delusions that cleared away like morning mist when looked at directly, but snuck back to torment the fringes of waking and sleeping thought.

Legolas sat down on the ground close to the boy. He said nothing, waiting for Estel to find the right time and way to begin. He waited a long time with the patience of the Quendi. Finally, the boy spoke.

"I am sorry I am troubling you. I cannot seem to help it."

"You are no trouble to me. I will listen to whatever you wish to say. Speak your heart and ease it."

After an even longer time, a whisper sounded in the night. "Do you love me?"

"You know that I do."

A sigh, soft and desolate: "Not as I once did."

"Say what I must do to convince you and it is done."

Estel did not answer the elf but began instead to speak of the fears that had hampered his full recovery. Legolas held his breath. He begged his heart not to beat and asked the stars to stop wheeling in their courses; for this was what he, Elrond, and Glorfindel had prayed for ever since the boy had survived the crisis of his illness. Although it had been obvious he had had hallucinations concerning his family and friends, until now he had refused to tell anyone exactly what the 'others' had said to him.

"It is hard to remember clearly. I have only pieces, here and there…but suddenly, when I am not thinking of it at all, I will hear one of the voices. There were two of you, did you know that? One was kind; the Legolas I have always known…the other… the other…he was…" He stopped, his voice tight; it was so hard to speak of it. For what if, in spite of all their assurances, the hurtful things said to him were true? But at some point he must put these fears to the test or he would never know peace again.

Legolas waited, his entire being silently urging his friend to continue. After another long while the boy went on, his voice shaking and barely audible, even to the elf.

"The other one, the other Legolas, he said….he said that when I was younger it was necessary that I believe I was loved, or I would not have survived. Then he said those days were over and he need not pretend any longer and that I was too old for fairy stories…He said you all pretended."

Legolas no longer held his breath. It had been stolen away by the devastating revelation. It took him some moments to still his disturbed thoughts and to be able to speak quietly and evenly. "Your brothers, you called out to them when you roved in your nightmares. Did they say the same? And Elrond?"

"No. My brothers said that they would scrub my stench from Imladris when I died and that they would have forgotten me before my grave was green. I cannot…I still cannot say what Ada told me."

/My poor Estel! We knew you were wounded by your wanderings in delirium but we never imagined anything like this/ With great effort the elf kept his emotions from his voice, "Do you believe what they told you? What it seemed we told you?"

"Not when I look at things squarely. But it seems as though these thoughts nibble away at my heart. Because you are all so very kind. You help anyone who needs it. I have seen it a thousand times. If you were forced to care for an orphan you could not love, you _would _pretend, in order to make his life as happy as may be. As you have made mine…" His voice trailed away.

Legolas marshaled his thoughts, trying to think of the best way to convince the boy. "It is true none in need are turned away from your home. Your family's kindness is well-known by all who have ever called upon them. But listen to me: I have known many fosterlings in Imladris. Most have been fostered according to the old ways, for training and the advantages in state-craft and learning only Imladris can provide. For protection of your line, as well, when the times began to be evil again. And some purely for charity's sake. I have seen them in your halls and their well-being has been of prime importance to the household. But never have I seen Elrond take them into his heart as he has you. He has been a friend, a good one, to all your line, but to none but you has he said, 'ion-nin'"

Legolas stopped speaking to let Estel think a little on his words. He raised his face and let the light of the stars wash over him. After a time it seemed they told him what he might do to help Estel banish the voices that continued to torment him.

Legolas gracefully moved so that he was still sitting but now faced Estel. He took one of the boy's wrists, turned it facing upward, and with his other hand drew a delicate touch across the palm. The fingers involuntarily curved into a shallow cup.

"Hold your hand like so. Now observe carefully: you must try to understand." Legolas released the wrist. He then deftly removed the vambrace from his left arm and pulled the sleeve of his tunic up to the elbow. He next drew his belt knife. The beautiful engraved blade seemed to draw a spark from the star-light. He held the bared forearm up and with his other hand, slowly drew the point of the knife downward in a vertical cut parallel with his arm, below his wrist. Blood welled up behind the blade. His eyes narrowed and his breath quickened, but he otherwise gave no outward sign of pain. Estel gasped and quickly moved to stop the mutilation. Legolas raised arm and blade out of his reach.

"Stop! Hold your hand as I showed you. All is well, Estel."

Estel held his shaking hand out as Legolas had placed it. The knife bit deeper and Estel whispered, "What are you doing? Please, Legolas, your pain will not heal mine!"

The moonless night was so dark that even in the elven glow the blood which flowed was nearly black. Legolas pressed the blade yet again to ensure the flow was fast enough and then held his forearm above Estel's cupped hand. The boy flinched as the first warm drops hit it. The cupped palm slowly filled and then began to overflow. Estel's wide and frightened eyes sought those of his friend pleadingly.

"I do not understand. Why are you doing this? Legolas, this is madness!"

"You must try to understand. Then, healer, you may staunch the wound. What is in your hand?"

"Your blood! Legolas, please! Stop this!"

"What do you know, Estel?"

Estel looked at his friend's implacable face and then at the dark liquid that overflowed his hand. Legolas was not one for dramatics; he usually maintained the serenity of the elves, even under the stress of living in Mirkwood. Legolas was not doing this to shock him or frighten him. He had a purpose. Estel had to discover it, and quickly. While the elf could lose a lot of blood before he was in any danger, there was a limit. Estel wanted to call for help, yet he knew this was between the two of them alone. The boy tried desperately to think.

What was blood? It kept the body alive. It was the seat of life. It _was _life. He stared at the blood as it flowed from his friend to his hand. His friend's life; in _his _hand! He looked into the eyes that bid him to find the answer that would drive the doubts and fears that tormented him away. He looked again at the flowing life for long minutes and then slowly smiled. He knew. The persistent voice of the 'other' Legolas finally faded and vanished. The persistent voice of _this _Legolas prompted him again.

"What do you know?"

Estel held his cupped hand a little higher. "This is mine. Your life is mine, if I should have need of it. You give it freely. It is of more worth than the gold of the Tree but you waste it upon the ground for my sake. You do not offer it to a future king but to a boy named Estel."

Legolas nodded. "What else do you know?"

"That you love me. That you are in truth gwador-nin. I beg your forgiveness that I ever doubted."

"There is naught to forgive. You went through a trial that would have taken the sanity of many that are older and more experienced than you. That you came away from it with only fears and uncertainties is a sign of your strength, Estel. I have one thing yet to say to you. Will you listen with your heart as well as your ears?"

"I will listen with my heart."

"Have I ever lied to you?" The dark head shook the negative. "Then I tell you that your father and brothers love you even more than I. And they too, love Estel, not the king they have promised to protect. Do you believe me?"

"Yes, I do believe you." He drew a deep, deep breath and slowly let it out again. The weight that had borne him down began to lift from his shoulders.

"Is it well with you now?"

"I think it will be…I know it will be. If not today, then soon." The shadow had lightened in the grey eyes. "And now I will take care of you, my brother." Estel calmly turned his hand over and then wiped the blood upon the grass. He firmly grasped the elf's forearm and squeezed tightly. He shouted as loudly as he could for his father.

"Ada! I need a bandage, quickly!"

Elrond ran toward the two and when he came up to them he saw with relief the satisfied nod Legolas gave him. He spoke to his son with his typical calm.

"Of course you do, ion-nin. I have never ceased to carry one, even to bed, since you entered my House." He handed a bandage to Estel and with super-elven control managed to keep from asking why there was a gallon of elf-blood upon the grass. Legolas smiled and jerked his head in the direction of the camp. Elrond returned the smile and turned back the way he had come. His questions required answers, but Legolas had signified that he could afford to wait for them.

Estel quickly made a pad which he pressed tightly to the wound. When the bleeding slowed he looked again at the elf's face. "You will need some stitches. I will do it." He grinned the first mischievous grin that Legolas had seen in over two months. "I am not yet very good at it."

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Later, by the campfire, Estel frowned in concentration while his father held a torch next to Legolas' arm and instructed him. Legolas stared off at the stars. Only an occasional hissed breath or wince showed that he was aware of the project father and son were engaged upon.

"Like this?"

"Yes, but a little tighter. There! Now go under and – no, that is too deep, try again."

"If he would hold still! Ah! Now I have it – they are very slippery, Ada."

"That is because he keeps bleeding on the thread; most thoughtless of him."

"I am trying to get it done quickly, Legolas," the boy assured his friend.

His father corrected him. "No, you must take your time and do it properly. There are still a few hours before the dawn. Do not hurry. Did you say something, Legolas?"

"That one looks well, Ada, does it not?"

"Excellent! I could not have done better myself! Now remove the first few and try them again. You should aim for a neat, identical row. Legolas will not mind. Good! Very good! You are already much improved." Estel flashed a smile at his father and then bent again to his task.

Legolas propped his chin in his other hand and sighed. Being a friend to a man is a perilous thing for an elf.

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End Chapter 2


	3. Erestor Has an Idea

**fluff alert!**

**Ch. 3 - Erestor Has an Idea**

At the same time that Estel and his escort left the Mirkwood palace, three of their number had ridden ahead with messages for the twins and Erestor. A few days later, Elladan entered the dining hall and saw his brother was already at breakfast, reading a parchment. He recognized the broken seal.

"More word from Adar? Is Estel still recovering well?"

"So it seems. They left Mirkwood at the same time as the messengers but are taking their time. He is still not as strong as father would like, but Ada feels he might recover faster once away from Mirkwood."

Elladan laughed. "Anyone would recover faster away from Mirkwood! What else does he say?"

"'When we arrive home, it is important that no one press Estel for details of his illness. He has been through a very difficult time, emotionally as well as physically. We must ensure that he knows that we love him.'"

"May I see?" His brother handed him the parchment. After a few moments, Elladan gave a low whistle. "Whatever happened to him—it was perilous."

"I fear so, 'Dan."

Suddenly the slightly older elf looked up, smiling. "You know, Elrohir, nothing says love like a really good prank."

Elrohir was shocked. "'He has been ill! And you want to prank him the minute he arrives?"

"It will be a nice prank; a loving prank."

"A loving prank?"

"Oh yes! Listen…you know how we have been saying he needs…" He continued to describe his plan.

At first Elrohir was a little upset. Elladan spoke persuasively. Finally, the younger twin nodded. "Time moves on and it is long past time to turn it to another use. We will not forget because we give it to another. What about Ada?"

"He will be pleased, you will see."

"They will be here in a very few days. We have not much time."

"Erestor will help us; he will assign others to do some of the work."

Erestor did indeed help them. In fact, he had an idea of his own.

"You two have inspired me. I think I will also prepare a prank for Estel; or rather, a gift for Estel and a prank for Glorfindel. He needs to learn that the adjectives 'fusty', 'musty', and 'dusty' can be overused. Now, how may I help you with your project?"

Thus it was that at one end of the family wing, a special room, left inviolate for many years, was suddenly turned out and cleaned from top to bottom. But first two somber elves lovingly packed away personal belongings,keeping only a few to take to their own quarters. Before they let the small army of cleaners and decorators into the room, they took one last look around and cried a little on each other's shoulders. They did not return until the room had been completely stripped and had lost its former owner's ambiance and faintest, lingering fragrance.

Three days later they resolutely entered with armloads of new linens, rugs, plants, and oil lamps. They were followed by grunting elves dragging a large carved bed, a wardrobe, bookshelves, chairs, and several small tables. The wall farthest from the door was unusual in the house as, although it looked out upon the valley and the rapids and falls of the Bruinen, it had solid walls with windows. It was one of the reasons they wanted it for their brother. Its former owner had done very delicate needlework there, repairing rare tapestries and other artifacts that were part of the histories kept in Imladris. The room by necessity had needed more protection from the elements than most occupied by elves. It had been Celebrian's study. Now it was Estel's study/bedroom. It would keep him warmer in the winter than the other adult rooms, as well as give him space for books, maps and other tools of both the warrior and the healer. The twins had decided it was time that he had an adult's quarters and they could offer no greater gift of the heart than the room that had belonged to their naneth.

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Meanwhile, Erestor, wearing an old robe, spent one afternoon sitting on the floor of the library balcony, working on something in his lap. He had with him knives with very small and sharp blades, strong thread, needles, rags, and jewelry polish. From time to time there came a soft tinkling and chiming as he worked. He hummed contentedly as he gradually made a pile of small bells next to him on the floor. He set aside Glorfindel's now bell-less bridle and began to polish the bells. They were Ages old, moved from bridle to bridle through the long years. There was no one in Arda who could make their like in these troubled times.

A knock on the library door produced an elf with a bundle in his arms. He handed it to Erestor who looked on it admiringly.

"Does it please you? Is it what you desired?"

Erestor smiled brilliantly. "It is marvelously made! Your craftsmanship is superb! He will cherish it, I promise you."

"There is no one in Imladris who was not grieved to hear the young son of the House was ill. I am pleased to help with his homecoming." The elf bowed himself out of the room.

Before placing the new object in his lap, Erestor held it up in the sunlight. The bridle, of narrow yet strong leather, was carved with leaves and vines and stained a deep garnet red. It would set off the black head of Estel's horse perfectly. Especially when decorated with the little golden bells that had been taken from the bridle of the Seneschal of Imladris. Erestor sewed the beautiful, melodic bells onto the new bridle.

Two hours later he admired his handiwork. He held it up at arm's length, gave it a gentle shake, and smiled at the musical chiming. Finally, he attached a carefully lettered tag: "To Estel with love, from Glorfindel and Erestor."

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A/N In the book FotR, Glorfindel can be heard before he is seen because of the bells on his bridle. As a lifelong rider, I can assure you Erestor has just committed a hanging offense.

End Chapter 3


	4. Truly Home

**Ch. 4 - Truly Home**

It was late afternoon when the travelers finally made their way to the courtyard before the Last Homely House. They were surprised to see only a few of the household staff awaiting them. Since riders were always announced by swift arrow relays from the borders, it was impossible that no one knew they were approaching. Elrond frowned at the absence of the twins and Erestor. As an elf took his bridle while he dismounted, he asked where everyone was. The elf looked around as if they would appear from thin air.

"I cannot say, hir-nin. They were about earlier."

"Well, we are not going to await their pleasure!" Elrond snapped. He turned to the commander of the valley's forces. "Glorfindel, I thank you. I will see you inside when you have seen to your troop. You are dismissed."

The Seneschal touched his breast and made a sweeping gesture to the side, palm up. "I will attend you shortly, my lord." He turned and rode toward the stable with his elves.

Estel looked rather forlorn; he had been sure his brothers would be there to meet him. An ugly thought plucked at him but he looked at Legolas and resolutely dispelled it.

Legolas smiled. "They have no doubt just now remembered and are scrambling their way here from the swimming pool by the falls, or some such thing. You know how they are!"

Estel nodded and was overtaken by a huge, jaw-cracking yawn. Elrond saw and ordered him into the house.

"Take your things to your room. I will have some refreshment brought to you and then I think a short rest is in order." His own jaw itched to copy his young son's. "We will meet at dinner."

Estel, Legolas, and Elrond made their way into the house. Elrond split off at the main stairway, heading for his suite, leaving Legolas and Estel to make for their own quarters. They had rooms across from each other and they simultaneously nodded a farewell and opened their doors. Legolas found his as it always was: welcoming with fresh flowers and clean clothes laid out for him. Estel found something quite different.

He looked around the room he had occupied since he left his crib. It was empty! To be sure, it still held bed and clothes chest, bedside table and chair, but everything that said 'Estel lives here' was gone. Dust motes danced in the air. It was as though he had been gone for a long, long, time. Gone so long that he had been forgotten. His throat went tight and he backed into the hall and turned for reassurance to Legolas.

He burst into the elf's room and cried out. "My things are gone! They do not want me here anymore!"

Legolas stared at him incredulously, then took swift strides across the hall and just as swiftly returned. He spoke soothingly, "Softly! Softly, mellon-nin, there is something strange going on here. Let us go look for some answers."

At that moment, a tiny piece of parchment caught his eye. It had been tucked into the neck of the silk tunic laid out for him. He picked it up, read what was written there, and smiled.

"Come, Estel. I know where we must go." He grabbed at a dangling hand and headed for the door.

Towing a questioning Estel behind him, Legolas hurried to the last room in the wing. He threw open the door and shoved Estel forward. The push carried the boy well into the large, airy room and Estel stood, thunderstruck. The room which he had only been in a few times had been totally transformed. The walls were a riot of forest trees and bushes, with elven and human warriors creeping through the deep cover. Birds and animals watched them or drank from forest pools. The furniture was heavily chased with vines and flowers, as was the headboard of the bed. All his treasures were placed on bookshelves that also contained a copy of the rare "The Lindon Dispensatory: Medicaments and Their Uses."

Three elves burst from behind the curtains. Their cries were stunningly original.

"SURPRISE!" shouted Erestor, Elrohir, and Elladan. Estel was nearly speechless.

"What?...How?...Is this mine!"

The twins came up to him and put their arms around his shoulders. "Yes, muindor, it is yours."

Estel pulled away so that he could look at their faces. He was uncertain. "But…your naneth…this was _her _room."

Elrohir answered for them both. "Yes, it was. But we do not need a room to remember her, and our brother needs a man's room now, not a child's. She would want you to have it, Estel. She would love you to have it. She would have loved you as we do."

The three hugged and sniffled a bit, and then Estel began to explore his new quarters. He touched every carving with delicate care, and was just about to open the wardrobe when his father and Glorfindel appeared in the doorway, looking for the rest of the family. Estel turned in great excitement to them. "Ada! Glorfindel! Look what my brothers have done!" He started to exclaim over every detail but Erestor broke in loudly.

"Go ahead and open the wardrobe, Estel. Make certain all your things are as you want them."

Slightly puzzled at the interruption, the boy did as he was bid. At first he saw only tunics and shirts, boots and belts. Erestor urged him to look in the far corner. Estel grasped an item not usually found in bedrooms and pulled it forth. It sweetly chimed. He gasped. So did Glorfindel.

The twins stood off to the side, closing their lips firmly on their laughter. Their eyes moved back and forth between the seneschal and the counselor. Legolas joined them and measured the distance for a quick getaway through the door with his marksman's eyes.

Estel held the bridle reverently in his hands. His trembling made music with the lovely harness. He read the tag and turned glowing eyes to the two who had been both tutors and confidants. He went to Glorfindel and said joyously, "It is just like yours!" His throat tightened with emotion. He whispered, "It is so beautiful! Sadoreth will look a fit mount for Gil-Galad!"

Glorfindel's throat was also tight with emotion. "It is _indeed _just like mine!" He glared daggers at Erestor.

The boy looked up. "Is something wrong, Glorfindel? Should I not have this bridle?" He hesitated and then held it out toward the golden elf. "I am sorry; I thought it was a gift."

Erestor moved as though to protest. The furious Glorfindel again looked in his direction and was astounded to see Erestor's eyes pleading with him. They pled for forgiveness and for the heart of their sacred charge. He turned back to the crestfallen boy. A recent memory flashed through his mind: a young body, limp and still; no rise and fall of chest, no beat of heart. He saw again a father's tears and remembered the feel of his own upon his face, hot and stinging.

The fabled warrior lifted a hand and brushed the back of his fingers across Estel's cheek. He smiled and said gently, "Of course it is a gift. And a poor one, too, in comparison with the gift Illuvitar gave to us."

Estel flung his arms around Glorfindel and mumbled grateful words into the shoulder of his mentor. He next grabbed Erestor and swung him around and around. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Erestor gruffly told him to mind his elders' dignity while at the same time bestowing a kiss to the top of the boy's head.

The counselor resettled his robes while Estel continued exploring every inch of his new home. In the corner Elrond and the twins stood together, heads inclined and speaking softly.

"You are not angry with us?" Elrohir was a little uncertain how his father would feel about their surprise.

"I am as proud of you as I have ever been. You do not yet know all that happened in Mirkwood. But even if you had, you could not have given Estel a finer, more meaningful gift. I see your mother in you this day; I see her loving heart. There is more than one way to heal." He glanced at his youngest. "Look at him! The shadows that plagued him are nearly gone."

After another hour Estel was finally persuaded to leave for dinner. He latched onto Legolas' arm, demanding to know if the elf had ever seen so fine a room or so beautiful a bridle.

As the family left the room, Glorfindel delicately laid two fingers on Erestor's sleeve. "My dear counselor, may I have a few words with you?"

Erestor looked after the others as they disappeared down the hall. He drew a deep breath. Time to pay the piper.

"Certainly, Glorfindel. I am entirely at your service. Although, if I will be needing a healer, perhaps we should fetch Elrond back."

The ancient elf purred silkily, "Unnecessary, mellon brūn. My skills are many. In situations like these, I never leave a mark."

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End

Brūn: old as in 'has long endured' or 'is well-established'


End file.
